Young Gods
by K-yers
Summary: Sydney Rook resents her next door neighbor, Mrs. Kapelput. But one evening, she runs into the bird-like woman's son, Oswald. And what follows will drag Rook into the dark business of Gotham's biggest crime families.
1. 1: Gotham

Gotham was a corrupt place. I have always known this, having grown up in this God forsaken place. I was born in the lower district of Gotham, and was raised on the same street I was born on. Muggers, rapists, thugs, and even possible murderers walked these streets. I grew up surrounded by this darkness, by these sketchy and bad people, if you wanted to go into technicalities, this was all I've known.

But, surprisingly, I loved this city.

This was home. Sure, it was constantly dark both metaphorically and literally, there was always a constant smell of sweat and piss in the lower districts, and I had to always hold my can of pepper spray tightly in my hand anytime I walked at night, but it was home. It was familiar.

Back when I was eighteen, I knew college wasn't a real option, but I did manage to find myself in a small job at the Gotham City police department. I was hired at first as a secretary for their front desk, and my job was just to file papers and answer phone calls and take those messages. Being a cop was never my plan; I didn't want that. So I worked my way from random secretary for the entire police department, to working in the giant file room in the back. There was one other woman who worked back here with me-Kristin Kringle.

There wasn't that much excitement to my job, mostly it was just sorting through paper all day. But it was a job, and it paid good enough. I could pay my rent and live off my money, so it was all fine and dandy for me. Kristin was an okay person to work with; sometimes she'd tell me about her personal life, but most of the time we just worked in content silence with occasional breaks for small talk.

Kristin was working on a particular large file when she asked, "Sydney? What do you think of Arnold?"

I looked up from the computer screen on my desk to glance at her. "Arnold Flass? He's kind of a douche." I snorted softly at my own insult, but Kristin just frowned and gave me a look from out the corner of her eye.

"Well, I think he's a nice man. You just have to get to know him a little better. That's all."

I didn't bother looking up at Kristin on that one. Instead I just started typing at light speed to try and get the report done on time. Captain wanted several filed cases updated. Kristin was fishing around for the files Captain wanted done and then I was typing them out again, except I just had to add the new information on them before sending them right back into storage. It was very mind-numbing work, but it gave me something to keep me busy.

We were almost finished when the door to the office opened. Kristin let out a tiny groan, barely audible to anyone else in the room. The person who had entered was a part of the forensics team, Edward Nygma. I liked him well enough; he was a little odd, but pretty nice. He had a massive crush on Kristin, but she didn't reciprocate at all. The whole situation was enough for me to feel sorry for Nygma.

"Good morning, ladies." Nygma said, loudly and quite cheerfully. He gave me a polite nod but then turned his undivided attention to Kristin. She just sort of gave him a stiff nod in greeting.

"Can we help you, Nygma?" I asked, saving Kristin. Nygma turned his head to me in a jerk.

"Ah, Detective Benson needs the files from the Mason murder." Nygma replied in his usual perky voice. Kristin headed to the corner of the room where the Mason murder file was kept. Nygma watched her go intently. I resumed my typing for a brief moment before Nygma was suddenly in front of my desk. "What're you doing?"

"Captain wants us to update all of the files." I said, not looking up from my computer screen. "Takes a long time, but it's got to be done. What's Benson want with the Mason murder file?"

Nygma paused for a moment before saying, "If I have it, I don't share it. If I share it, I don't have it."

I blinked at my screen and looked up at him. Nygma was wearing a slightly smug expression, probably pleased with himself for answering my question with a riddle. I raised an eyebrow at him for a moment before turning back to my computer. "If it's such a _secret_ then I guess I don't have to know." I smirked slightly at the silence that followed after I solved his riddle, knowing that I had stumped him for the time being.

"Mr. Nygma, here's the Mason murder file." Kristin said, returning with the manila folder in her hands. Nygma thanked her in a tone that suggested that she had just handed him the world.

"Have a pleasant afternoon, ladies." Nygma said before finally turning on his heel and leaving the room. Kristin sighed and shook her head.

"Do you think he's like that on purpose?" Kristin asked.

"I doubt it. He's creepy, but he means well. That's all that matters, isn't it?" I asked, looking away from the screen to give her a pointed look. Kristin understood immediately and turned her back on me, continuing to search through the files.

During lunch that day, the word that was going around was that Detective Bullock was getting a new partner. I caught a brief glimpse of this new detective right before I went back to records office. He was a handsome man with a hard-looking face. We made slight eye contact before I broke it off to go back to my office. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

The rest of the work day went by pretty uneventful. Some crooks were pushed into the cells out in the entrance of the police station, but other than that, I stayed inside of my office and finished my work for the day. Kristin and I clocked out at the same time but we took different routes home. She drove her car back home, and I took the train to the lower region of Gotham.

My apartment building was gritty, but it definitely wasn't the worst building here in Gotham. The elevator was busted though, so I had to climb the stairs up to the ninth floor. By the time I made it all the way up there, I was out of breath and sweating. I walked down the old hallway towards my apartment, the lights dimmer than usual. It looked like these bulbs needed replacing before they burst.

The door to my right opened with a snap and I flinched at the sight of my neighbor. I forced a mandatory smile on my face and gave her a stiff nod. "Hi there, Mrs. Kapelput."

"Oh," She said with a tone of disappointment. "I thought you vere my son. 'E should be here soon!" The old lady spoke in a thick accent that I couldn't quite place, and almost every single time I ran into her like this, she was talking about a son I had yet to meet. I was starting to have doubts whether or not he even existed. But I nodded at Mrs. Kapelput and started to side step away.

"It's always nice to see you." I said. "Bye, Mrs. Kapelput." She didn't respond as I turned my back to her and continued my way to my apartment door. I did hear her mutter loudly about me being rude before she disappeared into her own apartment. I rolled my eyes at her closed door before going inside my apartment.


	2. 2: Detective Gordon

I wiped the steam from my bathroom mirror to reveal my own reflection. My dark blonde hair had turned dark brown from the water and it hung around my face, framing it. I blinked my dark brown eyes and wrapped my towel tighter around my body. As I walked out of the bathroom, the sound of really old opera music came from the other side of my wall.

Sounded like Mrs. Kapelput was playing records again. She did this almost every day, blaring the scratchy and horrible music so that it went straight through her wall and into mine. The first few times this happened after I moved in, I had tried to ignore it because I hadn't wanted to pick a fight with a new neighbor. But after a few months of living here, it just got plain annoying.

I strode over to the wall where the music was coming from and banged my fist on it. The music seemed to get louder.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked myself. I quickly got dressed in casual clothes, sweat pants and a larger t-shirt. It was late enough already and I had to get to work early tomorrow to finish all of those files. I left my apartment and stalked over to my next door neighbor's. I knocked hard on her door and after a long pause in which the music was turned down a considerable amount, someone other than Mrs. Kapelput opened the door.

The man standing at the door had to be the son that Mrs. Kapelput never stopped talking about. He looked a lot like her: a beak-like nose and hair that stood up straight in the back. He was a few inches taller than me, despite the fact that he was standing up straight, as if he had a board strapped to his back. His icy blue eyes looked me and down, clearly taking me in and analyzing me. I did about the same thing, taking him in and noticing the very distinct look of his mother in him. They both looked a lot like birds. But while Mrs. Kapelput had the permanent look of a panicked bird, ready to fly away at a moment's notice, her son had a calm look to him.

"Can I help you?" He asked. I narrowed my eyes at his tone and locked eyes with him.

"Yes you can." I said. "I have work early in the morning and your mother's music is so loud I can barely think let alone sleep. Do you mind turning it down?"

His face broke into a polite smile and he blinked a few times before responding. "No, I don't mind. I am very sorry to hear that you were disturbed, miss...?" He trailed off, indicating that he wanted a name.

"Rook." I said, giving him my last name. "You are?"

"Oswald Cobblepot." He said, keeping that polite way of speaking. He stuck his hand out and I shook it. We shook hands once before we both dropped hands. I noticed that his hands were cold, but I didn't bother bringing it up. "I'll be sure to keep the music turned down for you, Miss Rook."

"Thanks for that." I said, nodding slightly. We held each other's gaze awkwardly for another moment or two before I turned away back to the my still open door.

"You should probably close that every time you leave." Oswald advised. "You never know who could sneak in."

I turned back towards him, eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat, Cobblepot?"

Oswald blinked before shaking his head. "No ma'am. Not at all. Just offering you some neighborly advice. Have a good night, Miss Rook." He ducked back inside his mom's apartment and closed the door with a snap. I snorted before going inside and locking my door behind me.

I could still hear the opera music, but it was much quieter and easier to ignore now.

* * *

The next morning, I left for work earlier than usual and caught the first train of the day back downtown to the police station. As I walked into the station, I counted a total of seven other people here this early. As I walked up the stairs towards the records office, I noticed the new detective sitting at his desk and pouring over some files.

I blinked and looked around the room once more. There weren't any other detectives here. They usually didn't come until they were supposed to clock in. The new guy must've sensed me staring at him because he looked up and we ended up locking eyes.

Giving myself a mental shake, I stepped forward and offered him my hand to shake. "Sydney Rook, I work in the records office. You must be the new guy."

He shook my hand firmly and gave me a smile, something that took me off guard. I hadn't been expecting a smile from him. "Nice to meet you, Sydney. My name's James Gordon."

Again, his name struck a familiar chord. I frowned slightly, trying and struggling to remember why it was so damn familiar. Gordon noticed immediately, and frowned right back at me. "Something wrong?"

"I don't think so." I said, shaking my head. "Your name is just familiar is all."

Gordon frowned slightly at this but didn't push the subject. "Well, I hope you figure it out, Sydney." We exchanged another friendly nod before I left his desk to continue down to the records office.

The office was empty; Kristin wouldn't show up for another hour and a half. I thought back to Gordon, why that name sounded so familiar. I frowned heavily as the thought sprang into my mind. No; that couldn't be...

I hurried to the side of the room where closed cases were filed. I ran my fingers along the sharp metal edges of the filing cabinets until I found the particular cabinet I needed. I opened it and found the file someone had marked _Dessen, Jonathon._

I opened the file and stared at the black and white picture of Jonathon Dessen. His long and thin face looked tired in his mugshot, and his pale eyes looked almost completely white here. I swallowed and put the picture down in a hurry so that I could read the actual file.

 _Jonathon Dessen, charged with driving under the influence and involuntary manslaughter (see page 3). Dessen was arrested two days later, found on the corner of Fifth Street and Castle Avenue. Official report states that he was intoxicated. Dessen then attempted to shoot Officer Harvey Bullock, but was shot down and killed by Bullock and Officer Oliver Fuller._

My throat felt like it was tightening. There was a reason I never read my father's file. But still, I turned to page three to continue on.

 _The involuntary manslaughter occurred around eight twenty-nine p.m on Tuesday, July nineteenth. The victim was District Attorney Anthony Gordon. His son, James Gordon, had also been in the car, but had only suffered minor injuries._

The file was back in the cabinet before I could read any more. That's why the name Gordon had sprang out at me. Why had I forgotten? How could I have forgotten? My dad had killed his dad. And then my dad had been shot down by Gordon's new partner.

There was a reason I had taken my mother's maiden name when Jonathon Dessen was killed. Dessen was a shitty father, and I had hated his last name with a passion. So I switched it and used it for the rest of my life. I didn't think anyone here knew about Dessen being my dad, or what he had done.

I remembered the nights he'd come home drunk. My mom had always locked my bedroom room on those nights. Our doors had locked with a key that she kept on her person or hid, so that he couldn't get it and I couldn't get out.

Dessen had deserved dying the way he had. But Gordon's dad didn't have to die that way; hell, Gordon had been in the car too.

Gordon most likely didn't know. I looked nothing like Dessen, and we had different last names. There was no way Gordon-or anyone else for that matter-could link me to Dessen.


	3. 3: The Wayne Murders

The newspaper's headline in the morning was enough to catch my attention and hold it. I stopped walking on the sidewalk to read and reread that headline, printed in big, blocked, black letters. Thomas and Martha Wayne, two of the richest and most powerful people in Gotham, were dead.

"Hey, girl!" The man running the news stand shouted at me. "You gonna buy something or just stand there! I got customers!" I made a point of looking over at all of his "customers". There was only one other person standing there, who also hadn't paid for his newspaper. The man looked up briefly at the exchange happening but then returned to the newspaper he had yet to pay for.

I walked away from the news stand and went over to one across the street. The man running that stand looked surprised to see me but I bought a paper from him. Right after I bought from him, I turned back to the news stand man across the street, who was glaring at me. I raised my eyebrows at him and started to walk towards a nearby bench so that I could the headline story.

The Waynes had been killed last night in an alleyway. According to the paper, the police have yet to release any suspects for any names. I knew that was just a way of saying that the G.C.P.D didn't have any sort of suspects. Other than the fact that they didn't have any leads or suspects, the only thing of interest in the article was that the Waynes son, Bruce, was the only witness.

Poor kid, I thought, shaking my head slightly. The fact that he had witnessed his parents' murder reminded me of James Gordon, who had been a witness to his own father's crime. This thought stayed with me the rest of the way to work, where the police station was more busy than I had seen in a long time. In every direction I looked I saw cops either rummaging through papers and rushing to others' desk. I maneuvered my way through the station, almost getting run over at least three times.

I ended up bumping into Nygma as I tried to edge my way through the parade of cops. Nygma smiled politely at me and said, "Good morning, Miss Rook. How are you this morning?"

"Well there was a murder all over the headlines, Nygma." I said. "I'm doing pretty good, but there's going to be a lot of work to do now. Especially since this is a highly publicized murder."

Nygma listened to me all while nodding his head along with my words. "Things are going to get pretty busy. But work is fun, right?"

"Maybe your job is,"

Nygma let out a slight huffy laugh. "I wouldn't mind having your job. You get to spend all day with Mi-files! You get to spend all day with files." His lousy attempt at covering up the fact that he was going to say Miss Kringle didn't go unnoticed. I snorted and nudged him with my elbow. Nygma looked slightly alarmed and caught off guard by the sudden contact that he didn't even get to respond.

I left Nygma like that and went down into the records office. Kristin was already there, sitting at her desk with the newspaper open to the headline story.

"This is horrible," Kristin said as I took off my coat and placed it over on the hook mounted on the wall. Kristin shook her head as I sat down, causing her high ponytail to bounce around. I could see why Nygma had a crush on Kristin. She was very pretty, and her red hair was always shiny. But she wasn't my type, and I highly doubted that I was hers.

"Who's on the Wayne case?" I asked. "Do you know?"

Kristin frowned slightly. "I believe it's Detectives Bullock and Gordon. From what Arnold told me, they were the first ones at the scene last night."

"I bet he was pissed he couldn't be on the case." I noted.

"Sort of. No one really wanted this case, according to Arnold." Kristin said. "He said something about how the city will implode if they don't catch the killer quickly."

"I can imagine." I said.

"But, whoever solves it quick will gets _lots_ of attention from the press, Captain, maybe even the Commissioner." Kristin said. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she wished that Flass had gotten this role. I, for one, knew that Bullock was a good detective, and Gordon seemed promising already. I didn't doubt that they'd do a good job in finding the murderer.

I voiced this opinion to Kristin and she just frowned, looking slightly annoyed. She wanted Flass to get the credit. Her wanting to get in his pants was clear as day. Another stab of pity for Edward Nygma hit me hard.

Kristin didn't talk to me for a long time, clearly still mad at me for siding with Bullock and Gordon. She'd get over it eventually; she needed to vent about her personal life at some point. If I gave it time, she'd come right back to tell me about something Arnold did that she thought was flawless, or her neighbor said .

I randomly thought about Mrs. Kapelput and her son, Oswald Cobblepot. I remembered all of the times that Mrs. Kapelput had told me that Oswald was coming over; after a while of not seeing or hearing him, I had assumed that he either wasn't visiting his mother as often as she said, or he just didn't exist. But now that I thought hard about it, I realized that every time Mrs. Kapelput talked about Oswald coming to visit her, the loud and horrible opera music would start blasting.

"Sydney?" Kristin asked. I looked up, raising my eyebrows slightly. "What're you thinking about? You got a really faraway look in your eye."

I shook my head. "Nothing really: just my wacky neighbor and her son."

Kristin kept her eyes on me for a long moment, clearly waiting for me to continue or give further detail. I turned away from her and started to boot my computer. Kristin sniffed loudly from her desk and began to do the same.

During my lunch break, I wandered down the busy streets of Gotham to go find the Chinese place I liked so much. It was a few blocks away, and it took about ten minutes to get there. Kristin was eating lunch in the office, trying to finish up some work she was close to missing the deadline on. She would sometimes join me on these missions to get Chinese, but today I was glad to be alone.

The line for food was long; and after a solid four minutes of waiting in line, I finally managed to order my lunch of egg noodles with bits of scrambled egg, water chestnuts, carrot, green peas, chicken, and shrimp. I loved the stir-fry from this place, and the family that owned the place were very nice and knew their regulars. The second the young son saw me waiting in line, he went ahead and put my order up to where his dad worked as a chef.

I got my lunch to go and just walked outside when I spotted a familiar figure. Oswald Cobblepot was strolling past me, an air of confidence surrounding him. I only stared at him for a split second when he obviously felt someone watching him because he turned around on the spot very jerkily, the air of confidence evaporating into thin air.

But then Oswald saw that it was me and his shoulders slumped as he sighed. My plan was to just nod politely at him and start back for the police station, thinking that that's what he'd want to do too. But instead, Oswald surprised me by walking right up to me, smiling politely.

"Good afternoon, Miss Rook." Oswald greeted me. "I see you've gotten a lunch."

I raised the to go bag slightly and shrugged. "Yeah, this is the best place for it too. Their stir-fry is to die for." Oswald nodded slightly, giving me the impression of listening to every word I was saying. I blinked, unused to having this much attention being put into just listening to me talking about lunch. I glanced around at the scenery and then at the suit Oswald was wearing. "What're you doing here, Oswald?"

He simply shrugged, the flicker of some emotion flitting across his face for only a brief second. "I enjoy taking a walk around the city. And with the weather warm and sunny like this, it seemed like the perfect day to do just that."

For some reason, I got the feeling that he was lying. Maybe it was the way his eyes darted from me to the other people walking past us on the sidewalk, or the way he shrugged his shoulders. His managed to keep his voice the exact same pitch as before, so that didn't give him away. But something did, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

Oswald tore his pale gaze from me to the busy street. "I should be going, Miss Rook. Like you, I've got a job to return to." He actually grabbed my free hand and patted it once, twice. I stiffened without meaning to and Oswald dropped my hand, refusing to let me see that he had noticed my physical reaction. Oswald continued, "It's been a pleasure. And I imagine we'll be seeing each other again, soon."

Before I could even respond, Oswald had started to walk away. I watched him go for a moment before shaking my head and starting back towards the police station. I could still feel the imprint of his hand when he had grabbed mine.


	4. 4: Missing

By the end of the first day, it didn't look like Bullock and Gordon had anything. According to Nygma, who had been trying to impress Kristin with how much he knew from the two detectives, none of the thugs in that part of town knew anything about who killed the Waynes. As I clocked out for the night, I walked past the two detectives at their desks, I could feel the disappointment coming off of them.

Whoever killed the Waynes were getting away with it. They needed to get caught, and I could only hope that these two were able to find them before the killer left town.

When I got home, there was already opera music blaring from Mrs. Kapelput's closed door. I stopped outside of it for a moment, staring at the door and wondering whether or not Oswald was in there. If Mrs. Kapelput was playing music, then her son was most likely there. I turned away from the door and walked the rest of the hall down in my apartment right next door.

The opera music was still audible in here, but it was quieter than the other night. I found myself smiling softly and went about my usual nighttime schedule.

* * *

When the Waynes' murderer was caught barely two days later, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The police station was jam-packed with applauding cops and journalists, hoping to get the first glimpse of the two detectives who caught the killer single-handedly.

Bullock and Gordon both looked very happy with themselves, accepting the handshakes and claps on the back. I stood near Nygma, clapping politely as the two detectives finally made their way over to where the Captain was standing. Our police captain was looking very proud of the two men. From across the room, I spotted Arnold Flass bring his hands together three times before putting them back down.

Some photographers for the Gotham papers took pictures of the two detectives. Nygma stood close to me and seemed to stand even taller than usual. I glanced at him, taking in the slight smile on his face.

"You seem quite cheerful today, Nygma." I said.

"Quite cheerful, Miss Rook." Nygma agreed. He didn't elaborate why he was so peppy, and if he did I had a feeling that he'd give the answer in a riddle. Together, we watched the cops eventually disperse and the reporters and photographers leave the station. Nygma's silent and tall presence wasn't a bother, like how Kristin or the other cops would believe. He was quiet when he wanted to be, and just liked showing off his brains. Mix that with social awkwardness and you ended up with Edward Nygma.

I blinked at him and said, "You can call me Sydney. Miss Rook seems too formal."

Nygma looked at me like I had just sprouted an extra head right in front of him. "Are you positive?" I nodded and Nygma smiled. "Fine, then you have to call me by my first name."

"Sounds like a deal, Ed." I said. He nodded and turned back to the crowd of cops in front of us. I had to go back down to the records office, and after saying goodbye to him, Ed gave me a broad smile and looked flattered at the fact that someone was saying goodbye to him.

However, the peace that seemed to settle after the Waynes' killer was long gone, a new major crime occurred. This time it was about some homeless kids going missing. After a witness gave descriptions of the two kids who he had seen being kidnapped, Kristin and I had to go through stacks upon stacks of files, trying to see if any of these kids had criminal records.

I couldn't see the door open from behind my stacks of papers and manila folders. But common sense told me that it'd be Ed long before he opened his mouth to greet me and Kristin.

"Good afternoon, ladies!" Ed said. I smirked to myself, and waved a hand from above the stacks of papers and folders. Ed stepped closer and peered over the top, taking everything in with great interest. Kristin seemed to be hiding behind her stacks.

"Why are you here, Mr. Nygma?" Kristin asked sharply. I leaned around my wall of paper to give her a narrowed eyed gaze. Kristin ignored me and kept her eyes trained on the folder in front of her.

Ed didn't answer right away, alerting me of the riddle that was about to happen. And sure enough: "Everyone wants more of it to feel special, yet the more you have of it the less special you feel."

Kristin rolled her eyes and didn't even bother to try and answer. I frowned hard and after a moment looked back up at Ed. "Knowledge. You want information about the kids taken off the street?"

"Precisely."

As I started handing Ed the information we had been able to dig up about some of the missing kids, Kristin gave me a very confused look. She must've have been questioning how I knew the answer to his riddle. After Ed said goodbye and left with the papers, Kristin wheeled her chair to me and asked, "How did you know?"

"I remember in elementary school, there were these books full of riddles, puns, stuff like that." I explained. "I liked reading them, and so did almost everyone else in the class. Some of the riddles Ed uses are the exact same ones I remember from back then."

"You have an amazing memory."

"My mom once told me that I reminded her of an elephant because of it." I said, smiling slightly at the thought of my mother.

Later that evening, about five minutes after I entered my apartment, there was a couple of sharp knocks on my door. I frowned slightly and opened the door to see two unfamiliar cops standing on my doormat. I frowned at the pair of them. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Detective Allen," The man said, nodding and smiling in a friendly way. "This is my partner Detective Montoya. We're with the Major Crimes Unit, and we're here to ask you some questions."

"About?" I asked.

"Your neighbor, Mrs. Kapelput's son, Oswald Cobblepot has gone missing." Montoya cut to the chase. "Mrs. Kapelput mentioned your name."

I snorted. "I bet she did. That woman hates me. Well, come on in." I stepped aside and let the two cops into my apartment. I closed the door behind them and gestured for them to take the couch. "Do you want anything to drink? Water, beer?"

"We're good; thank you though." Allen said, raising his hand briefly to stop me from getting them anything. I grabbed a chair from the tiny dining table and sat down across from the couch.

"Alright, what questions do you have for me?" I asked, leaning back and crossing my legs.

Allen and Montoya remained in an uptight position, sitting up straight. Montoya pulled out a notepad and flipped through it for a brief moment before looking back at me. "Mrs. Kapelput thinks that her son has, and here's a direct quote, 'gotten tangled with a loose slut.' Then she told us to check you out because she, once again another direct quote, 'knows that you've brought the population of Gotham here.'"

I felt a flare of anger rise inside of me and my eyes narrowed into slits. "Firstly, if Oswald has gotten involved with a girl, then good for him he needs to get away from his mom for a while. Secondly, I've brought _one_ ex-boyfriend since I've moved into this apartment. And that was like my first month here. God dammit she's nuts."

"She does not like you." Allen noted. "She went on for a while. She's also convinced that you convinced Oswald into leaving her."

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. "I've met him on two separate times, and neither of them lasted over five minutes."

Allen and Montoya glanced at each other in that way that all detectives seemed to do with their partners. They asked me when my two meetings with Oswald were, and I noticed that after I told them about the meeting in the street, they both tensed and desperately avoided looking at each other. I stopped talking and stared at them, getting an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

But the detectives quickly wrapped up our meeting and left my apartment even faster than that, giving me fake smiles and exchanging glances. I glared at them as they left, my trusting of them evaporating quickly.

They knew something about Oswald disappearing. That much was painfully obvious. The only question was why the hell did they get worried after I said I saw him outside of the Chinese restaurant a few days ago?


	5. 5: Sedona

Mrs. Kapelput was banging on my door the very next morning demanding if I knew where Oswald was. After we had a long shouting match that woke up the rest of our floor, she seemed convinced that I had nothing to do with Oswald going missing. During our screaming match, she called me a slut about four times.

Meanwhile, in the records office at work, Arnold Flass and his friends seemed to be hanging out in here a lot more often. I blamed Kristin for this; if anything she was encouraging the cops to be in here. My shared office was cramped enough with filing cabinets and paper, now I had to maneuver my way through her and four tall and burly men.

I just walked in when I spotted Detectives Delaware, Bauder, and Flass surrounding Kristin'd desk. Kristin was sitting in her own seat, looking flustered but otherwise pleased with having these three in here. Flass was sitting right on her desk, taking up majority of the space there. Delaware, who from I knew was a married man, was leaning against the closest cabinet to Kristin's desk. And Bauder was sitting in _my seat_ , taken from my desk.

I closed the door with a loud snap, causing all four faces to look up and stare at me.

"Ah, hi there, Sydney!" Flass greeted me loudly.

"Hi," I said shortly, approaching my desk. "Can I have my seat back?" I narrowed my eyes at Bauder. The cop smirked and stood up, taking his sweet time with the simple act of standing up. As I slipped past him to take my seat, Bauder cupped my butt quickly before removing it just as fast.

My face heated up out of anger, but to him it must've looked like a flirty blush. Bauder winked at me and I felt my stomach tighten in a very uncomfortable way.

Kristin either didn't see the exchange or she was completely ignoring me. "Arnold here was just telling me about this Italian restaurant near the shore. It's supposed to be amazing!"

"Sounds like it's to die for," I said in a monotone voice, trying to emphasize how little I cared about this subject.

Unfortunately, Flass must've thought my words were serious because he asked, "Hey! How about we all go together, as a big group?" He turned back around to look back to Kristin. "What d'you say, Kristin?" She nodded excitedly. I barely managed to contain rolling my eyes. Flass continued, "It's settled then. We'll meet in front of the restaurant at eight o'clock this Friday."

I looked up at all three detectives. "Shouldn't you all be working?"

Delaware laughed shortly and looked at me in a way that made me want to throw something. "The lady's right. Let's get going, guys." He led the way out, followed by Bauder and Flass. Kristin watched them go with big eyes.

"I'm not going to dinner." I said the second the door shut.

Kristin spun towards me and stared at me like I was crazy. "What? But why?"

"I think we've already gone over my feelings for Flass and his friends." I replied. "They're douches."

Kristin snorted and narrowed her eyes at me. "You've never given them a chance."

"Don't have to. You know how good I am at reading people, and my superpower is telling me that they're no good."

"Your superpower? Oh, come on, Sydney! It won't be as fun without you there. Delaware won't be coming; he told me this morning that Friday is his and his wife's anniversary. It would just be you, me, Arnold, and Tony."

"You're not making a very good case."

"At least think about it!" Kristin said before turning away to begin her work for the day. I stared at her for a moment before standing up to leave the office. Before I walked out, I assured her that I'd think about it. Kristin brightened and sat up a little straighter.

I walked out of the records office for some air only to find an older man standing along the balcony, looking over it and appearing to be looking for someone. I blinked and walked over, wanting to know who he was looking for. "Excuse me?" I said as I got closer. The man turned and looked me up and down briefly before giving me a polite nod. I returned it. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I'm looking for a James Gordon." The man said in a British accent. It took me slightly aback but I managed to recover in time to nod.

"I know where he is; I'll find him." I assured the man. He gave me another polite nod before turning back to overlook the balcony. I hurried down the stairs to where Gordon's desk was. I found it empty but quickly found the detective walking along the floor. I rushed towards his figure and stopped short to tap him on the shoulder.

Gordon jumped slightly and blinked at me. "Sydney, is there something you need?"

"There's a British man upstairs looking for you." I told him. "He didn't give me his name, but he looks important." I pointed him out to Gordon and the detective nodded solemnly.

"Thank you for telling me, Sydney." Gordon said before heading in the direction of the older man. I watched him go and then turned to continue my brief break before going back to work.

* * *

On Friday night, I ended up right in front of the Italian restaurant that Flass had been raving about. Kristin was standing outside with me, primping herself up and checking a mirror every few minutes. We were only waiting for about ten minutes (bad start) when Flass and Bauder finally showed up. And like Kristin had said, Delaware was nowhere to be found. Lucky.

"Good to see you lovely ladies!" Bauder shouted. Clearly he'd been drinking already. I gave Kristin a very pointed look and didn't bother trying to hide it. Kristin avoided my gaze and kept her eyes trained on Flass. He led the way inside, putting Kristin on his arm and patting her hand every now and then. Bauder made a move but I quickly stopped him by slapping his hand away from my ass.

I had to admit that the restaurant was very nice on the inside. The ceiling seemed to stretch upwards and bright, yellow lights made the place feel nice and warm. At a circular table, I sat between Kristin and Bauder, who had wasted no time ordering a bottle of wine. Kristin was facing away from me and was giving every ounce of attention to Flass.

A dark-haired waiter stopped by and took our orders, also bringing out cheesy garlic bread, complementary wine to go with bottle Bauder was buying, and pouring water into everyone's glass. After we all ordered, there was a moment of silence where everyone seemed to be taking in our surroundings. But then Bauder started to drink his wine noisily and the mood was gone.

It didn't take long for Flass and Kristin long to start a conversation with each other and to stay right there in that conversation. Bauder tried to grab me a few times from underneath the table, but I kept slapping him away so he eventually lost interest. I allowed my eyes to wander around the restaurant and I caught a glimpse of the inside of the kitchen right as the swinging door opened.

What the hell was Oswald Cobblepot doing here?

I stood up from the table without thinking about it. No one paid any mind. I strode over to the kitchen door and stood there for a second, staring inside and wondering how I could get that man's attention. I didn't have to wait long before he turned around, looking for whoever was staring at him and he caught sight of me. Oswald literally froze and for a moment, it looked like his mind was moving a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do next.

After what could've been two seconds of staring at each other through the swinging door, Oswald rushed forward, now walking with a very severe limp. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen before I could respond. I thought briefly about stopping him, but then again I wanted to know what he was even doing here.

Oswald pulled me along, ignoring all of the curious eyes of his coworkers until we were outside in the alley behind the restaurant. He opened his mouth to start talking, but I cut across him.

"What the hell are you doing here, you little shit?" I asked through gritted teeth. The anger of the past few days' events ignited inside of me. I hit Oswald's shoulder once, twice, each time asking a new question. "I've been getting pissed off visits from your mother. Why haven't you talked to her? I got a visit from the damn _cops;_ why am I getting cops in my apartment, Oswald?"

"Stop hitting me and I'll tell you!" Oswald said, finally managing to block a blow. I crossed my arms and glared at him. Oswald breathed heavily and looked like he was thinking about what to say. "I got into some trouble at my old job, had to disappear for a while, and now I'm here."

"That's the worst explanation ever." I countered.

"Well, I can't tell you the whole story out here!"

"Fine then." I said. "Come to my apartment tomorrow because you're not off the hook. And say hi to your mother for God's sake. She's really starting to piss me off, calling me a slut and yelling at me in the hall of our floor."

Oswald frowned. "She called you that?" I nodded. Oswald kept frowning and looked back to the kitchen's back door. "I should be getting back to work. My manager will be getting angry with me."

"You're coming by tomorrow to explain?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have my word, Miss Rook." Oswald said solemnly. I snorted and turned towards the road, planning to use the front entrance to go back inside.


	6. 6: The Arkham Plan

Some times I hate the fact that my apartment walls are so thin that I can hear everything going around me. On some nights, I could hear the newlyweds in the apartment on the other side of me trying for a baby. Every Saturday and Sunday, the old man right above me vacuumed his carpet at exactly ten o'clock in the morning. And Mrs. Kapelput would blast that horrible opera music every time Oswald went to visit her.

But today, I managed to overhear her crying out with joy that Oswald had finally come back.

I turned up the volume on my T.V to drown out the opera music playing next door. There was a new crisis going around Gotham now: a vigilante dubbed the Balloonman because he chained corrupt people in power to weather balloons and let the balloons take them away. I remembered back in middle school, learning how weather balloons worked. Being dragged up by one only to fall right back down sounded like a horrible way to die.

Today was my only day off, so I was enjoying myself in the comfort of my small apartment. Usually I'd watch the news or channel surf until something caught my attention. The opera music next door was still playing, so I assumed Oswald was still over there. The digital clock perched underneath my T.V struck ten in the morning; I glanced up at my ceiling just as the sound of the old man's vacuum started.

It was one o'clock when the opera music finally stopped. I looked away from the T.V and stared at the wall where Mrs. Kapelput's apartment was. Then I heard the sounds of hobbling footsteps coming down the hall. I moved my eyes along the wall, keeping them trained on where the sound was coming from. The footsteps stopped right outside of my door. There was about a good two minutes of silence when a sudden knock sounded on my door.

Oswald was standing at my door, looking awkward and out of place. I stepped aside without a word and let him hobble inside. When I closed the door behind him, he ended up flinching. I raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. Oswald sat down on my couch, causing me to grab the chair from the tiny dining table. I sat down and silently gestured for Oswald to proceed.

He narrowed his eyes at me, probably from being treated this way. I imagined that it was vastly different from how his dear old mother treated him. Finally, he sighed and started to talk.

"I'm assuming you know who Fish Mooney is?" He asked. I nodded, remembering her name coming up in conversation around the police station. Apparently, she was a good set of eyes and ears when it came to the underworld of Gotham. Oswald continued, "Well, I used to work for her."

I frowned deeply. Oswald narrowed his eyes at me, as if daring me to say something. When I didn't, he continued. "I usually just held her umbrella, but some times I'd attend meetings with her and I'd get to hear all kinds of information. I overheard that the evidence that put Mario Pepper at the Wayne murder, was planted in his apartment by Don Falcone and the cops."

He paused so that I could process this information. I stared hard at him, trying to see if he was lying or not. But the sense I had gotten before when he lied wasn't there right now: he was telling the truth.

"I told Detectives Allen and Montoya, who I'm assuming are the twos cops who stopped by here the other day." Oswald continued, watching my face carefully. "She found out about me snitching, so Fish ordered to have me killed. Falcone agreed and ordered Jim Gordon to kill me, to prove that he was 'with the program' as they call it. Jim walked me to the edge of a pier, but the gun right next to my head, and shot past me while pushing me into the water. I left the city for a few days, pretending to be dead and all. And now I just got back, and I have a plan to get on top."

He finished and sat back to sink lower into my couch. I closed my eyes and rubbed my face with my hands. When I came back out from behind my hands, I stared hard at him. "Why are you telling me all of this? Doesn't this technically make me a liability to you and your 'plan'?" I used air quotes on the word plan.

"Technically, yes it does. But you'd be able to tell if I was lying." Oswald said, as calmly as if we were discussing the weather. "I know you could tell that I was lying that day outside of your lunch spot. But I couldn't tell you then that I had just had a meeting with the two detectives from Major Crimes."

"And now you can?"

Oswald just shrugged, not answering. I kept my eyes trained on him, but inside of my head, I was thinking about where I kept my steak knives. If Oswald decided that I really _was_ a liability, then he wasn't going to kill me without getting stabbed a few times.

But I didn't want him to know that I was thinking this, so I just nodded down to his feet. "What happened there?"

Oswald looked down and sighed heavily before looking back up at me. "Fish did it. I don't believe it's going to get better any time soon."

There was a moment of tense silence, where we just sized each other up. I could feel the muscles in my legs tightening, readying myself to launch myself into to kitchen in case I needed a weapon.

Oswald narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm not planning on killing you. If I wanted to, I could've planted a bomb in here while you were at work, or I could've poisoned the food you have here. The point is, if I wanted you dead, you would be."

I snorted. "That supposed to make me feel better? If you're not going to even try to kill me, then what exactly are you planning on doing?"

"Right now, I figured you could be a good asset to me. You have eyes inside of the police department." He stopped talking when he saw my facial expression. "What, like you enjoy the company of your coworkers? I saw you last night with those three; you looked like you were ready to pay the bill the second you sat down back down."

He had a point. I had no affection for Flass or any of his buddies. None of the cops really spoke to me, so I was indifferent to them. Kristin and I worked together every day but we weren't friends, I was mainly an audience for her to vent frustrations at. But Captain Essen always said hello to me whenever she saw me; Bullock hardly looked my way but Gordon was a good man; really Ed was the only person at the G.C.P.D whose company I completely enjoyed having around.

Oswald reached into his jacket and I immediately tensed up. Oswald blinked and slowly pulled out a small blue booklet. He handed it to me and I grabbed it out of the open air between us. I glanced at him briefly before looking down to the cover of the blue booklet. It read _The Arkham Plan._ Thomas and Martha Wayne's names were printed in white blocked letters along the bottom of the booklet.

"What's this?" I asked.

"A little plan that the Waynes were making before they died." Oswald replied, straightening up. "Don Falcone wants to help it, remodel and renovate the entire district. Don Maroni, however, wants it demolished. There's a war brewing between them, and Arkham is the first battle."

I flipped through the booklet, catching sight of words and names of councilmen and Mayor James. When I made it to the end, I looked back to Oswald. "What do you want me to do with it?"

"I want you to somehow get that onto Jim Gordon's desk tomorrow morning." Oswald answered. "I don't care if you break into his desk and slide it in there; I don't care if you hide it amongst his papers. Just make sure that he finds that book. And make sure no one else sees him with it."

I put the booklet onto my dining table and turned back to Oswald, who had stood up the second I turned my back. I stood up quickly as well, keeping my eyes on him. Oswald smiled and said, "You still don't trust me."

"Do you really blame me for that?"

"No. It just means you're smart." He started limping heavily to my door and opened it for himself. Right before he left, he turned back towards me and said, "I'd say that we'l be seeing each other a lot more often, Miss Rook." And with that said, he hobbled out of my apartment.


	7. 7: Viper

The Arkham Plan booklet was tucked into the backpack I brought to work every day. As the backpack went through the usual scanner to check for weapons, I found myself tapping my foot at a high speed. I wasn't sure how carrying that booklet would be incriminating against me, but Oswald had been pretty clear that he didn't want anyone knowing that Gordon had it.

"Why are you nervous, Sydney?"

I jumped at the sound of Ed's voice directly behind me in line. I turned and looked up at where he was tilting his head and frowning slightly at me. I shrugged and said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Ed."

Now Ed fully frowned, an odd sight on his usual cheerful and friendly face. "Don't insult me, Sydney. I thought we were friends; friends trust each other."

I couldn't tell Ed about the full extent of the Arkham Plan, not without dragging him into Oswald's plan to rise to power. I also couldn't lie to Ed, because he was definitely smart enough to tell if I was lying. My backpack made it through the security scanner and I bit back my exhale of relief. I picked it up and waited for Ed's own bag to get checked and cleared.

Ed rejoined me at the door heading into the station and I had finally come up with a decent answer for him. "At night they come without being fetched. By day they are lost without being stolen."

"Doubts and fears." Ed answered the riddle without even a pause. I blinked at that and smiled at the fact that he could figure it out that fast. But Ed now just looked concerned. "What on earth are you afraid of?" He looked genuine in his concern, and the sight of it sent a stab of guilt into my chest.

"A lot of things actually," I said vaguely. "But right now I think it's all of these vigilantes who've been coming out." Ed's concerned look vanished and he gave me a smile.

"These vigilantes have only been going after corrupt people. You're not a bad person, Sydney. I'd stop worrying if I were you." Ed said. I almost made the comment that just because you told someone not to worry didn't mean that they'd stop worrying. But I didn't just nodding and allowing Ed to take the lead towards the offices in the back.

As I passed Gordon's desk, I saw the box of evidence already sitting there. Probably from whatever case he was working on right now. I lagged a little behind, pulling the booklet out of my backpack. Ed didn't notice me no longer right behind him and it gave the perfect opportunity to slip the booklet into the evidence box without him seeing. I quickly caught up with Ed right before he turned around to check if I was still there.

The next day, I was still clueless as to why Oswald had wanted me to give Gordon the Arkham Plan booklet. But Tuesday morning Mayor James gave an announcement, telling the city about how he would be combining the two different plans for the Arkham district. Considering that the asylum would be renovated and the other sections of the district destroyed, I couldn't tell if Oswald's rise to power was going to run smoothly or not.

I kind of wanted him to show up and explain everything that was going on on his side. But another side of me was already dreading the next time I'd see him limping around.

Kristin, during my recent entanglement with Oswald, didn't appear to notice a single thing off with me. I found it amusing that the person I work the closest with didn't notice a single thing, while Ed had been able to see my nervousness that first day. I remembered how Oswald had unintentionally made me think about every relationship I had with the people here in the G.C.P.D. And that kind of drove in the message that Ed was the only friend I had here at work.

"He was very charming." Kristin was telling me for the seventeenth time. She kept on reliving that dinner with Flass, and she didn't seem to think that nothing was wrong. She had wondered where I had gone to for a few minutes there, but I just told her that I had gone to the bathroom and she had accepted it.

I mumbled some random answer, something barely audible but Kristin agreed with me and continued on her story despite the facts that I had already heard it and had _been_ there.

The door burst open and although I couldn't see past the filing cabinets I was going through, I knew it wasn't Ed just by the way the door opened. Bullock came around the corner and glanced at me once before charging towards me.

"I need a file on a drug called Viper." Bullock said. I frowned slightly and started towards the V section.

"Does it have another name?" I asked, running my fingers through the various files and paperwork.

"If I did I would've told you by now." He snapped. I turned my head and glared at him.

"No need to get pissed off at me just because a file doesn't exist." I retorted. Bullock glared back at me until he finally decided to leave, huffing about no files on a drug called Viper. Kristin, who had been sitting in her desk through this whole exchange, blinked at where Bullock disappeared to and then turned to me.

"Have you even heard of a drug named Viper?" She asked.

I shook my head ."Must be something new."

My prediction came true the very next morning as I walked into work. The police station was crammed with the drug users being corralled into the holding cells. It was taking at least four cops per user to get them into the cells. I stopped and stared at the chaos, not sure what to think for a good long moment.

"Sydney!" Ed's voice snapped me out of the lull and I found him standing on the second set of stairs. I walked over and stood beside him right as two cops started dragging a girl towards the Captain's office. The girl's skin had turned white and the veins underneath her skin were pulsing gray against their skin.

The girl made eye contact with me and Ed right before lunging at the pair of us. Ed's hand was suddenly on my shoulder and yanking me back and out of the way. I bumped into his chest as the girl passed. I nodded up to Ed. "Thank you."

"Quite alright, Sydney. Didn't want you to get run over." Ed replied, staring out at the barely controlled chaos surrounding us. "I have to tell the captain and detectives what the drug does. I'll tell you too, afterwards."

I nodded, grateful for not being let out of the loop. "Once again, thank you, Ed." He left me to go tell the captain, Bullock, and Gordon what this new drug, Viper did. I left the noisy area for my cramped and crowded office, where Kristin was already going over paperwork.

"It's madness out there." Kristin said. I could only nod to agree with her. I got to work, trying to ignore the sounds of screaming and fighting above our heads. Kristin and I would exchange looks every now and then, silently agreeing that this mess was indeed mad.

Ed showed up about ten minutes later to tell me about the drug. He straightened considerably when he saw that Kristin was in the room as well, and although he was telling me about the drug, he would often turn to Kristin to see if she was listening and paying attention to him.

What Ed was saying made me nervous. The drug used and burned calcium in the human body to create its super strength. But then when there no more calcium to burn, the bones crumbled, collapsed the lungs, and the users died right after. Kristin shuddered but I could see that Ed was quite excited with this new drug.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Ed asked, looking between us. "A brand new drug that has never been seen before?"

"Yeah, Nygma, it's really something." Kristin said sarcastically. Ed frowned slightly, but quickly wiped that off of his face to smile kindly at Kristin. I glanced between the two of them and cleared my throat. Ed turned to me.

"Is there a cure?" I asked.

"Nope." Ed replied.

I blinked. "Well, do they have an idea as to who did it?"

Ed shook his head. "All they have is a list of companies and factories who used to make the stuff." He excused himself and left, leaving me and Kristin frowning after him. I looked back at my files but couldn't put my energy into really looking at them. Did this drug have anything to do with Oswald?

It made some sort of sense; right after he tells me about this master plan of his, this drug breaks out to the public. But, according to Ed, whoever made this drug had some intense science know-how. Something about Oswald told me that he wasn't a science genius. Still, it wouldn't hurt to go and make sure.

"Are you okay, Sydney?" Kristin asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at her and saw that she had a look of concern on her face. "You're face is pale. And you've been staring into space for a while now."

"I'm fine. Just a little freaked out by what's going on up there." I looked up right as a big crash sounded from above. Kristin flinched while I remained to stay still. I made up my mind to go back to that Italian restaurant to pay a visit to Oswald.


	8. 8: The Maroni Crime Family

I narrowed my eyes at the Italian restaurant that Oswald worked at. I hadn't even stepped inside yet, but there was already something different about it; a different air to it. I tilted my head to the side and hesitated walking inside of it. But my wariness didn't manage to stop me as I climbed the steps and entered the restaurant. The lights inside had been dimmed, maybe something they did during the day.

There were some customers inside the restaurant, but not a lot. I stood by the host podium for a brief moment before a waiter appeared out of nowhere. "Hello there! Will you be dining by yourself, or is there a bigger party joining you?"

"Oh, actually I'm here to talk to someone." I said. The waiter raised his eyebrows, silently asking who I was looking for. I racked my brain for any names that Oswald had dropped, because I highly doubted that he'd use his real name when Fish Mooney's people thought he was dead.

But then, almost summoned by magic, Oswald appeared from the dim lighted restaurant and beamed at me. "Miss Rook! What a pleasure it is to see you again!" He limped heavily forward and pulled me in for a very brief hug, as if he knew how uncomfortable I was with touching. He turned to the waiter and kept that big smile on his face. "No need to worry, Marcus, Miss Rook is with me. Why don't you go help out your section?" Oswald nodded to a section of the restaurant that was particularly busy. Marcus the waiter forced a smile on his face and left.

Oswald finally turned back to me and gestured to a nearby booth. We sat down across from each other and I immediately started talking. "What happened here within the past few days? You're out front and wearing a suit." Oswald held up his hand and cut me off. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"A change in the hierarchy happened, Miss Rook." Oswald explained calmly. "I recently became the manager of this fine establishment."

I frowned at him. "How many dishes did you wash? Two?"

"It's a city of opportunity." Oswald replied, keeping a pleasant look on his face. "May I ask why you decided to surprise me today?"

I opened my mouth to answer him but shut it quickly when a new waiter came up to ask if we wanted anything to drink. Before I could even say anything, Oswald ordered a bottle of wine and the waiter was gone again. I stared at Oswald. "That was unnecessary."

"What was? I have to keep a reputation around here. _You_ came here to see me; if I didn't offer you at least a drink, then I'd look bad to all of my employees. And I can't have that, now can I?"

The waiter returned with the bottle of wine right as I rolled my eyes. The waiter smiled nervously at the pair of us before pouring two glasses of it. Neither Oswald or I spoke until the waiter was gone again.

"I came to ask you about this drug that's hit the streets." I said, slightly surprised at how much I sounded like a cop. "It's called Viper and it gives the user super strength."

"Sounds delightful."

" _But_ the effects wear off and the user's bones collapse and kill them."

"Nevermind. What does this drug have to do with me?"

I blinked. "So you had nothing to do with it? I found it suspicious that you tell me about this master plan and suddenly this drug shows up and wrecks havoc."

Oswald snorted. "Not every crime in Gotham has to deal with me. If they did, then I'd already be at the top."

I took a drink from the wine, momentarily tasting the grapes and berries that went into making it before swallowing. Oswald huffed in amusement and continued watching me as he took a sip from his own drink. I had already drained my wine glass when he spoke again. "I admire your detective skills, though. Direct and straight to the point; Detective Gordon would be proud."

"Sir?" The voice of a waiter halted the conversation. This time Oswald looked annoyed as he turned to the young man.

"What is it, Marcus?" Oswald asked, a sharp edge to his voice now.

Marcus winced as if Oswald had hit him. "Your lunch meeting have arrived. They told me to tell you."

I looked at Oswald right as he looked back at me. Then he sighed and turned back to Marcus. "Bring Miss Rook a to go box of today's special. I'd hate knowing that she missed lunch because of me." Marcus disappeared quickly and I raised an eyebrow at Oswald, who just shrugged and stood up. I stood up as well and Oswald patted my shoulder briefly. "Believe me when I tell you, Miss Rook, that if anything important happens with the plan, you'll be the first to know."

We made it to the front door and I got to see Oswald's lunch meeting. The men standing there were all big and burly, all of them looking like they could knock out someone's teeth with a single punch. I didn't get to give Oswald an "are you shitting me" expression when the man in the front turned and saw us approaching. His wide and dark face broke into a smile and he raised his arms in a gesture of greeting.

"There's my boy!" The big man said so loudly that I wasn't really surprised, given his size. The man embraced Oswald very briefly before finally noticing me. His dark gaze twinkled slightly as he looked between me and Oswald. "And who is this lovely lady?"

"This is my good friend, Miss Rook." Oswald said before I could. He gave me a sharp glance. "Miss Rook, this is Sal _Maroni:_ my boss."

Oh yeah, _boss_. Boss of a major crime family, that is. This was the guy who wanted Falcone's throne, who had wanted the Arkham district demolished. I made a smile spread across my face and I said hello to Maroni, the whole time feeling the flutter of fear starting up in my chest. Where was that to go box?

Maroni didn't notice anything amiss because he extended his hand. I gave him my hand, knowing that it'd be stupid to refuse this man. Maroni raised my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles before releasing me. The man right beside him, however, didn't look as pleasant. He narrowed his eyes at me. "You're friends with the Penguin?"

Oswald stiffened considerably next to me and I blinked. So that's what they were calling him now? The nickname suited him perfectly, given the bird-like appearance, the suits, and now the hobbling limp. I simply smiled politely at the mafia man and said, "You know, I never had a lot of affection for that nickname."

The man snorted but I could see Oswald glancing at me from the corner of my eye. Maroni let out one loud laugh and he turned to Oswald. "Hold onto this one, kid. She's a keeper; I can tell." The waiter with the to go box finally showed up and handed me the bag. I nodded once to him and turned back to the mafia men.

"It's been nice meeting you, Mr. Maroni." I said, keeping my eyes on him. "But I'm afraid I've got to be leaving now."

Maroni gave me another broad smile and dipped his head. "Understandable, Miss Rook. It was a pleasure meeting you." I said goodbye once more to the mob boss, to Oswald, and I ignored the man who had called Oswald, Penguin. When I finally stepped back outside into the overcast day, I allowed myself to take a breath.

When I got back to the police station, I hid in my office. Kristin was away at lunch, most likely with Flass. I sat at my desk for a long time, rubbing my face with my hands and cursing the day I met Oswald Cobblepot. Eventually, I caved in and opened up the to go box to find it full of chicken alfredo. It was actually really good.


	9. 9: No More Hiding

I tried to push my meeting with Sal Maroni leave my mind, but I couldn't. All kinds of different scenarios entered my mind where I would have to meet the mob boss again, each one getting more far-fetched and more frightening than the last. The most reasonable one I could come up with was that Maroni somehow found out about who Oswald really is and, because Oswald gave the boss my last name, decided that I needed to be questioned to see what I knew.

This kind of thinking led me to buying a heavy duty dead bolt for my apartment door.

But, either Maroni didn't find out about Oswald, or I wasn't deemed important enough to be questioned, because no one came after me. I was able to go to and from work without seeing anyone following me, but that didn't stop me from bolting my door shut the second I entered my apartment.

Gordon and Bullock solved the Viper case soon after I met Oswald at Maroni's restaurant. Gotham had about a week of peace before the body of a rich girl was found suspended up by her arms at the docks. Some quick file searching by me had discovered that this girl was Amanda Hastings, from one of the richest families in Gotham City. This sent the media into a frenzy, and soon every local news channel was showing nothing but pictures of the girl in high school, of her and her family, and of her dead body hanging at the docks.

Kristin and I were discussing the new case during lunch break. We were sitting in a coffee shop just a few blocks away from the police station, sipping coffee and shaking our heads at the chaotic situation Gotham was in again.

"It's just like when the Waynes were murdered." Kristin said. She shuddered. "Hopefully someone can find the killer just as fast." I avoided answering by taking a large drink of coffee. Kristin clearly didn't know that the "killer" of the Waynes had been framed.

Ed was waiting in the records office when we got back, eager to share what he had learned from the detectives. Almost as soon as Kristin gave him the okay, Ed sprang into the story of how Amanda Hastings' murder was just like a set of murders from ten years ago. I stared at Ed with this knowledge, a flicker of anxiousness starting in my chest.

Jonathon Dessen had killed Anthony Gordon just about eleven years ago. The Dessen file might be close to the files Ed needed. For this reason, I walked over to the files from around that time period and started searching until I found the file on Randall Milkie. I gave the file to Ed to pass onto the detectives. Ed thanked me with a smile and left, giving Kristin another long look before taking his leave.

The murder of Amanda Hastings traumatized the city for another few days before Bullock found the killer in the oddest way possible. The way the official report was written, he had said that the family therapist had used hypnotherapy to make both Randall Milkie and the killer now to scare the elite and corrupt families of Gotham. I frowned right at the file, rereading it a few times to make sure that my eyes didn't fool me. Kristin had a similar experience as she read the file too.

Barely even a day after the Hastings murder was solved and the therapist arrested, I saw Detectives Montoya and Allen entering the G.C.P.D with determined expressions on their faces. I stopped walking, having to deliver a thick file to Detective Alvarez's desk, to watch them stride straight into the police department and towards Gordon.

"Rook!" Alvarez called at me, but I couldn't turn towards him or even acknowledge him. Something was wrong.

Montoya finally made it to Gordon where he was standing by the holding cells. "James Gordon, you're under arrest for the murder of Oswald Cobblepot."

"Shit." I muttered. Montoya had spoken loud enough to get the attention of every person in the building, and as she started reading off Gordon's rights, Allen started to cuff Detective Bullock for apparently witnessing the murder. Captain Essen rushed over, no doubt going to try and protect her two best detectives. Alvarez stopped trying to get my attention and rushed over, going to see a closer look at what was happening.

Oswald wasn't dead; this charge was false. I didn't think that the two detectives from Major Crimes knew this, so Gordon could end up going to jail for something he didn't do. Gordon was now yelling at the cops, telling them that he _didn't_ do it. I was standing near the door, and despite the loud shouting and arguments going on by the holding cells, I was able to hear the heavy limp as it came up behind me.

"Good afternoon, Miss Rook." Oswald said happily as he took the stop by my side. I opened my mouth to say something but the words got caught in my throat. Oswald smiled, always polite, and patted my shoulder briefly. "If you'll excuse me." He took a few steps forward to stand at the top of the stairs. I backed away until I was closer to the desks.

Someone, probably one of the detectives, spotted Oswald first and pretty soon everyone standing near the holding cells stopped talking to stare at the newcomer. Montoya and Allen looked like they were seeing a ghost; Essen, Alvarez and a few other cops looked momentarily confused, Gordon looked horrified, and Bullock looked pissed off. Oswald smirked and laughed loudly at their reactions.

"Hello!" He said cheerfully. "I am Oswald Cobblepot." He did a little bow and laughed again. I rolled my eyes despite myself.

Over at the holding cells, Bullock finally turned to Gordon. "You son of a bitch!" He shouted, lurching forward to try and hit Gordon. The cops there quickly got between them to stop them, but I turned back to Oswald. He was smirking and looking proud of himself. But before he even tried to go talk to Gordon or any of the other cops, he turned on his good heel and started to limp out of the door.

Oswald and I locked eyes before he walked out of the door. He winked at me and kept that very smug expression on his face. I watched him go, feeling momentarily confused as to why he just showed up only to leave right after. But then it hit me: he had wanted to send a message to everyone.

He wasn't hiding anymore.

After the Major Crimes detectives left, Gordon and Bullock left to and I guessed that they were going to be sorting out what happened. Knowing Bullock, I figured that he'd end up punching Gordon a few times before they actually made peace with each other.

I went into the records office to see that it was empty. There were files all over the place, on the floor and some of them set down on my desk along with Kristin's. I stared at the mess, and then hurried over to where the Dessen file was supposed to be kept. I grit my teeth when I saw that the entire cabinet where it should've been was missing.

"Sydney?" Ed's voice made me jump and I turned around to see him entering the wide open door of the office. He didn't even glance at the mess, keeping his dark eyes on me. "Are you okay, Sydney? You seemed spooked when that Cobblepot fellow came here."

For a moment, I considered telling Ed about getting sucked into Oswald's plan about rising to the top of the food chain in Gotham. But this wasn't the time or place to do it; I'd have to tell him eventually. "Um, yeah I was. His mom is my neighbor." I said, deciding to give him that bit of the truth. Ed's wide eyes got even wider and he looked momentarily worried for me.

"Do you know him? Does _he_ know _you_?"

I was touched by Ed's concern, but shrugged, claiming that I didn't know if Oswald knew me or not. Better to bend the truth a little bit than to outright lie to Ed's face. He'd be able to tell if I was lying anyway. Before Ed left, I asked him if he knew where all the files went. Ed frowned, turned a light pink. "I put the files from the drawer on Miss Kringle's chair."

My next question had been to ask him if he knew who moved everything, but he had just answered it. So I just thanked Ed and waited for him to leave before looking for Dessen's file. I found it somewhere near the top and sighed heavily before putting the whole stack back into the cabinet.


	10. 10: Victor Zsasz

I heard Oswald's limping footsteps before he even knocked on my door. I opened the door with a narrowed gaze and watched him carefully as he entered the apartment. I couldn't help but take note of how he completely walked by his mother's apartment, which concerned me. Oswald read my facial expression and said, "You seem stressed, Miss Rook."

"Stressed is the last word I'd use to explain what I'm feeling, Cobblepot." I said, closing the door behind him. "That stunt with the police station just put a target on your back. You chose a stupid way of coming back from the dead."

Oswald snorted. "You're a brutally honest person."

"I've been told." I said. Oswald had a pleasant smile on his face as he kept looking at me, and the sight of it was starting to bug me. Before I could say anything though, he patted my cheek lightly and limped over to my kitchen.

"The first group of people I wanted to let know that I was back was my friend, Jim Gordon, and any of his friends at the station." Oswald said, taking a seat. I was left standing in front of him, still taken aback by the fact that he had touched my face. "There's a butterfly effect, you see? There are men in the police station who are in Fish Mooney's pocket, and they'll be running off to go tell her the grand news that I'm alive."

He paused to take a slight breath, and I took this opportunity to start talking. "You seem really happy about that. She wants you dead, in case you don't remember."

Oswald laughed; I raised my eyebrows at him and crossed my arms. "You didn't let me tell you, Miss Rook. Don Maroni believes that I am his man. He thinks I am one hundred and ten percent loyal to him and him alone."

I caught the fact that Oswald had continued to use the word "think". I brought this up and Oswald grinned cheekily at me again, tilting his head just a tad. "Good ear, Miss Rook. And yes, Maroni thinks I am his man, but I've been meeting other players in this game. Playing people the best way I possibly can."

"You're being very vague." I pointed out.

Another laugh. He was starting to irritate me with the constant laughing and smirking, as if whatever I said was just _so_ amusing. I narrowed my eyes at him and waited for him to finish before saying, "What game are you even playing? Who else is a part of this?"

Oswald gestured for me to sit opposite of him. I did, keeping my eyes on him the entire time. "Right before Jim tried to 'kill' me, I made a deal with with Flacone. I promised him that I would come back to Gotham, spy on Maroni for him, and he'd offer me a spot right beside him when this war was finished."

"Sounds like it's easier said than done."

"Exactly. So you see why it's important to stay on Maroni's side, Miss Rook. With my cards played right, _I'll_ be the ruler of Gotham."

He was making it sound like a kingdom, I noticed. And he wanted to be king of it all. Every time Oswald talked about taking over Gotham or throwing Falcone and Maroni and Fish out of power, he got this bright light in his eye that slightly unnerved me. If Oswald ever noticed this reaction from me, he didn't show it at all. Oswald looked up at me with a thoughtful expression, "I believe that Fish must know about me being alive by now. You've never met her have you?"

I blinked at him. "No."

"Good, that's good for you at least." Oswald said, nodding. There was a nervous twitch in my stomach and I forced myself not to think about what could've happened if Fish Mooney ever knew that Oswald and I were "friends".

Oswald left a little after that, going next door to visit his mother. I locked the door behind him and pressed my back against the door. After an hour, I was almost back to being relaxed again when someone knocked hard on my door. I stopped getting out the ingredients for dinner to peek around the corner at my front entrance. I hadn't heard the familiar limping footsteps of Oswald, so whoever was out there knew how to walk quietly.

I flinched when there was another pounding knock on my door. When did I suddenly get nervous every time someone came to my front door? Oh yeah, when I got involved with the next door neighbor's kid. I heaved a sigh before slowly approaching the door, and answering it. I almost had a heart attack when I saw who was standing there.

The man standing in front of me was much taller than me. He had super dark eyes, and judging by his head, was completely hairless. The tall and bald man tilted his head slightly and gave me a small smile that didn't make me feel any better. "Hello. I guess that you're Sydney Rook?"

"That's me." I said, fighting to keep my voice over the pitch of squeak. The man snorted and tilted his head back to a normal position.

"My name is Victor Zsasz. And my employer needs to have a word with you." He said quite calmly and with a surprising amount of politeness. But that didn't stop my heart from hammering in my chest.

I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, making an effort not to look as frightened as I really was. "And who is your employer?"

"Surely you've heard of Don Falcone?"

"You know, that name has a familiar ring to it."

Zsasz blinked his dark eyes at me. "Do you want to come along peacefully, or will I have to use force?" The threat in his voice was clear as day. I blinked and looked at Zsasz up and down before sighing and retreating into my apartment. I half expected Zsasz to follow immediately, but he continued waiting patiently right outside of my door for me to come back.

With my head held high, I left the safety of my apartment and locked the door behind me. Zsasz gave me a polite smile before gesturing for me to lead the way out of the building. We walked past Mrs. Kapelput's door, and I could hear the opera music starting next door. I grit my teeth as I lead the way down the stairs and into the overcast day outside.

There was a dark black car parked right on the curb. I swallowed as I approached it; Zsasz ignored my nervousness and moved ahead to open the door for me. I got inside the car and he got in right behind me. I moved as far from him as possible and was practically pressing myself against the opposite window and door. There was a tinted window between the back seat and the driver's seat, and Zsasz banged on it hard to alert the driver that it was time to move. As the dark car slide away from the curb, Zsasz ave me a pointed look.

"I'm so glad you chose the peaceful way, Rook. I'd hate to have to use the forceful way." Zsasz said, glancing out of the window every now and then.

I snorted despite myself. "You didn't leave me much of a choice."

"There's always a choice, Rook. You just happened to make the smart one." Zsasz paused for a second before looking back at me. "Make sure that you keep making the smart choice."

The car sped up as we made out of the heavily populated neighborhood.


	11. 11: Carmine Falcone

The car drove us all the way to the outskirts of Gotham City. At this point, I couldn't turn to look at Zsasz anymore, so I just kept my eyes glued to the outside of my windows. The tint made the world look a few shades darker than usual. Every now and then, Zsasz would ask my opinion on something, or try to drag me into a conversation, but I mainly just ignored him.

"Pretending that you're not in this situation isn't going to be of any help to you." Zsasz said slyly. "You've already stepped into the car; you're meeting Falcone whether you like it or not."

"I'm aware, Zsasz." I said with an accidental edge in my voice. I glanced at him to see that Zsasz's brow was raised higher. For a brief moment, I tried to imagine him with eyebrows, eyelashes, and a head full of hair. But the image was so foreign that I couldn't even start to imagine it. I decided to change the subject. "Are we going directly to where Falcone lives?"

Zsasz nodded, looking mildly entertained by this conversation we were having. The amused look on his face did nothing but make me unsettled and a tad frustrated, so I just turned back to the window to watch the darker world go by.

Our ride lasted for another twenty minutes of awkward silence before the car pulled in through the front gate. I leaned forward and got a good look at Don Falcone's house-or mansion. Tall white pillars framed the front porch and there were countless windows going up five stories. Including the front porch, there were two more porches on the front side of the house alone. I sat back against the seat after getting my look at the place, and I spotted Zsasz watching me with an amused expression. I pointedly ignored him until the car pulled to a stop in front of the house.

Zsasz slid out first and then held the door open for me as I got out of the car. The driver was still inside the car, and didn't bother getting out at all. In fact, the second Zsasz shut the door closed behind me, the driver started to drive off. I watched the car leave, feeling a sense of hopelessness sinking in. There goes my ride out of here.

"Hey, Rook," Zsasz said sharply. I looked back to where he was standing on the front porch steps. Zsasz was watching me with narrowed eyes now, and he jerked his head towards the door, gesturing me to go first. I bit back my nervous sigh and led the way up the stairs and past Zsasz. The door was unlocked when I pushed it open.

The inside of the mansion was just as impressive as the outside. Zsasz sped up until he was in front of me and he started to lead the way deeper into the oversized house. We passed several doors on our way to the second floor, and I couldn't help but wonder what all of these rooms were even used for. Surely the mob boss didn't need all of this space.

Zsasz opened the door to a room right next to the stairs. I looked at him as I passed and allowed myself to give him a nod. Zsasz nodded back and gave me a smile as he shut the door behind me. I turned away from the closed door to the large room that looked like it was a formal living room. There were nice couches that looked like they belonged in a palace, and there was a large granite fireplace. At this fireplace, a man was standing in front of the fire, which I could only assume was a gas fire.

"Welcome to my humble home, Sydney." The man said in a loud, low voice. "Please sit. My good friend, Liza, will be here shortly with refreshments."

I was too scared to even try to disobey, so I did as he said and took a seat on the stiff sofa. Don Carmine Falcone stood at his fireplace for another long moment, shifting some pictures on the mantle around before turning to me so that I could get a look at his face.

Carmine Falcone was probably in his sixties. His face, though weathered from age and stress of the mod business, still looked strong and commanded attention. Falcone struck an impressive figure. I, to say the least, was very intimidated.

Falcone had just sat down on the sofa opposite of me when the door behind me opened again. Zsasz was standing beside the open door, narrowed eyes pointed at the woman who had just entered the room with a tray of finger food. Zsasz looked at Falcone. "She just walked in, sir."

"It's quite alright, Victor." Falcone said, startling me with his politeness. He waved the woman forward and she walked until she was able to set the tray down on the coffee table between me and the mob boss. Liza and Falcone locked eyes for a moment before she walked out of the room again. Zsasz watched her like a hawk until she walked past him. Zsasz snapped the door shut behind them. Falcone and I were alone again.

Falcone reached for the tray and took one of the tiny sandwiches. "Take a sandwich, Sydney. Liza worked hard." I took one and was surprised to find that the sandwich was just a ham, cheese, and lettuce sandwich. I had the feeling that Liza didn't know how to make a lot of stuff, but I was definitely not going to tell Falcone that. So I ate my whole mini sandwich before Falcone started talking again.

"You're probably wondering why I brought you here on this lovely evening." Falcone said. "I imagine it'd be very alarming for Victor to show up at your home and bring you all the way out here."

"Yeah, well," I said. "Zsasz-I mean Victor, was very polite. Kind of scary, but still polite."

"That is his way." Falcone said, plucking up another mini sandwich. He gave me a pointed look and I took another too. There was an awkward silence where we both ate our sandwiches. When I swallowed the last bite, I looked up at Falcone.

I cleared my throat. "I don't mean to offend you, Don Falcone. But I was wondering why you brought me here. I'm sure it had nothing to do with inviting me to have dinner."

Falcone smiled and had a very amused expression on his face. "I must give you credit, Sydney, very few people would come to my house and ask why they were there in such a manner. But because you've been so polite, I'll tell you what I found about your relations."

I frowned at him, wondering what he could mean by that. Falcone continued. "Your last name is a very interesting one, Sydney. There aren't a lot of Rooks around Gotham. I tracked a few in Metropolis; I'm assuming you have some family there?"

"A few cousins." I said, feeling my stomach start to tighten.

"Yes, but a quick amount of research told me that those cousins are all on your mother's side. This told me that you took your mother's last name of Rook." He paused, taking his time with taking another bite out of a sandwich. I stared at him, not able to move. Falcone continued, "I found this information quite interesting. So I hired someone to figure who your father was, and why you seemed to take such an interest in your mother's name. They found it very simple, seeing as your mother kept your father's name.

"So I guess, by all legal means, you should actually be called Sydney _Dessen."_

Was this the moment where I was supposed to break down and start begging for forgiveness, even though I had no idea why I should? I swallowed so hard that it hurt. Falcone sensed my gathering panic and smiled calmly again. "I remember Jonathon Dessen. He was an unforgiving man, to say the least. It wasn't a secret that he was a drunk, who would occasionally beat his wife. There was never a mention of a child, however."

I had felt panic well up inside of me a few moments before, but now I stared at Falcone, confusion replacing the fear. "You knew Dessen?"

"Of course I did. He worked for me on the lower side of town. Really his job was just to guard some warehouses, some times participate with low operation missions; I only met him once, but that left me a lasting impression of who he was, and I did not like who he was."

I snorted. "No one really liked who he was."

"I brought you here to see how his only child fared, and I see that you are better off without him." Falcone said with something that sounded like approval. But then his gaze darkened and he tilted his head slightly. "But then, one of my people informed me that you were seen with Mr. Cobblepot. Now tell me Sydney, what is your relationship with the man called the Penguin?"

"His mom lives next door to me." I said. "I met him because the music from her apartment was too loud and he answered the door. We kept kind of running into each other, and eventually he told me about what happened between him and Jim Gordon, him and you, and what's happening between him and Don Maroni right now. Other than that, he's pretty much kept me out of the know."

Falcone blinked and sighed. "I believe you, Sydney. But that still begs the question: why in the world would the Penguin confide all of that crucial information with you?"

"I've been trying not to think about it." I said. Falcone smiled and nodded.

"It's getting late, Sydney. Would you like a ride back home?"

I looked over to the wide window and saw that the sun had already set. The sky was stained dark pink and orange. I nodded at Falcone, who stood up and said, "Keep a wary eye on Cobblepot, Sydney. I wouldn't trust him if I were you. No one who shares information so willingly is ever doing it out of the kindness of their hearts."

"Then what will we call this meeting?"

"Call it a warning." Falcone said gravely before turning his back on me to open the door.


	12. 12: Fear

Zsasz once again escorted me back home, and this time we didn't have a lot to talk about. He didn't try to question me on what was said between me and Don Falcone, and I didn't bother to try and fill him in. My head was spinning from the meeting I had had. The meeting with Falcone could've gone horribly, yet I had left with my stomach full of sandwiches and a spoon full of advice from Falcone himself.

It was dark by the time we finally pulled up next to my apartment building. Zsasz got out with me and led the way up the building and to my floor. The opera music from Mrs. Kapelput's apartment was silenced, telling me that Oswald was long gone. Zsasz gave Mrs. Kapelput's door a brief glance, and I started to wonder what he knew about it.

I unlocked my door and started to step in when I realized that Zsasz was still standing right there. I turned to look up at him and narrowed my gaze at him. Zsasz was looking around the apartment hallway, his eyes wide and unblinking. "You okay, Zsasz?" I asked, trying to follow his gaze. Zsasz looked back down at me.

"Just scoping the place out." Zsasz said. "Don't want an assassin to come and kill you now."

I stared hard at him, expecting him to be joking. Zsasz kept a blank face until finally breaking into a smile that made me even more nervous. Zsasz laughed at my discomfort and said, "See you tomorrow, Rook."

"Tomorrow?" I asked, but Zsasz was already leaving. I watched him go and didn't shut myself into my apartment until he was gone.

The next morning, I quickly got ready and went to work earlier than usual. When I got to the police station, I wasn't surprised to see some cops already at their desks, but I was surprised to see Kristin carrying a box of papers into the hallway that led to our office. I followed her and walked into the office right after her. Kristin sat the box on top of a filing cabinet and she finally saw me entering the office.

"Good morning, Sydney." Kristin greeted me. "You're here early."

"Yeah," I said. "I didn't want to be home right now."

Kristin frowned. "Really? Is there a reason for that?"

"It's just, a lot of crap going on right now, Kristin."

"Boy trouble?"

I sat down at my desk and frowned slightly before nodding slowly. "Yeah, yeah you could say boy trouble."

Kristin sat at her own desk. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's complicated." I said. Kristin settled in her desk. "I mean it's really complicated."

"My entire love life is complicated."

I didn't doubt that Kristin's love life was complicated, seeing how she always fell hard for jerks and creeps. But I didn't think that pulling her into my now overly-complicated relationships with Oswald, Falcone, and Zsasz. I sighed, "You know that guy who came in yesterday, the one who Detective Gordon 'killed'?"

"Yes. Please tell me he's not an ex of yours."

"Oh no. But his mom's my neighbor and he's been coming around a lot lately."

Kristin blinked at me. "Do you think he likes you?"

"I doubt it."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short." Kristin said. She opened her mouth to say something else but was interrupted by the opening door. Flass entered and took in the sight of the two of us just sitting in our office. He looked slightly flustered. Kristin frowned at him. "Everything okay, Arnold?"

"You ladies all okay?" Flass asked, glancing between the two of us.

Now I frowned at him. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Someone's out in the station. We need to leave." Flass said, hurrying forward and grabbing Kristin by the hand. He pulled Kristin along with him and Kristin gave me a brief look before following him. I jumped out of my seat and followed them both until we made it into the main area of the police station. I immediately recognized Victor Zsasz standing on top of a desk and looking around at all of the cops beneath him.

"I'm looking for Jim Gordon!" Zsasz called out, continuing his gaze around the big room. Finally, Zsasz met my gaze and offered me a tiny nod and smile. I shook my head slightly in response. His friendly demeanor evaporated as he looked past me and into Captain's office. "Jim!"

The door behind me opened and I turned to see Captain Essen and Gordon exit the room. Zsasz yelled out, "Ah, Jim! Don Falcone wants a word with you! You can come the peaceful way, or the more violent approach."

Gordon replied with, "Are you really going to try that in a room full of cops?"

Zsasz seemed to think about this for about two seconds. "Would everyone leave the room? Jim and I need to talk." There was a pause in which no one moved. Zsasz furrowed his hairless brow. "Please?" He shouted.

The cops started to leave the station. I stared at those going, disbelief rising inside of me. Flass didn't hesitate a second time to leave, but Kristin did right before giving me a desperate look and following him. I looked back at Zsasz, who was watching the police leave with that polite look on his face. Zsasz looked up and locked eyes with me before jerking his head towards the door.

"Sydney," Gordon said quietly. I looked at him. Gordon blinked at me before telling me, "Leave."

I headed for the door without a second glance at the two of them. Captain Essen was right behind me. Outside of the police station, there was the crowd of cops either standing and waiting for the sounds of gunfire, or leaving. I spotted Flass leaving with his friends to go do God knows what.

Kristin was sitting down on the bottom step, and I hated to admit that I had half-expected to see her leaving with Flass and his buddies. I silently walked down the steps and sat down beside her. Kristin looked at me before sighing heavily.

"I feel so helpless." Kristin confided to me. I nodded in agreement, hating to think about what was happening to Gordon in there. The last thing I wanted was for Zsasz to use "the violent way", which I was sure only ended with Zsasz being brutally hurt. Falcone just wanted to talk to Gordon (hopefully). A man without limbs could still talk.

After twenty minutes of everyone sitting outside, Captain Essen checked out the inside. She gave the all clear, and when we entered we saw that Gordon, Zsasz, and Zsasz's assistants were all gone. The cops who so willingly left Gordon to Zsasz silently went back to their desk, where there were signs of some struggle. I swallowed the fear that had suddenly risen into my throat and went down into the filing office with a heavy feeling of fear and anticipation weighing on my shoulders.


	13. 13: Friends in Higher Places

Word broke out that Gordon and Bullock had tried to arrest Falcone and Mayor James. I actually dropped my jaw when I heard this, not able to fathom this incredibly stupid and dangerous idea. But Ed, who had been the one to tell me about the news, didn't waver from the tale and looked pleased with himself when he saw my shocked reaction. He seemed pretty proud with himself to be able to catch me off guard.

Ed, who had missed out on the drama with Zsasz, was very interested to hear about what had exactly happened. He wanted every single detail, which I was able to give him pretty easily. By the time I finished explaining what had happened, I asked him, "Where _were_ you exactly so that you missed it?"

He sighed. "I was at the Gotham City library, looking up some records."

"Records of what?"

Now Ed avoided my gaze altogether. "Just some of the usual research." He wouldn't let me pick up the subject again, but a faint twinge of worry started to poke at me.

That evening after I had clocked out, I went into the forensics department of the police station to confront Ed about what he had been doing. It wasn't like him to keep secrets, especially since we had decided to be friends. Honesty was something that Ed put in high regards. I managed to find him in one of the medical examination rooms, wearing protective clothing and googles over his glasses. A dead body was laying flat on the table, half covered and with scars that showed that an autopsy had already been done.

Ed didn't notice me in the room for a good minute, but jumped in fright when he finally did notice me. "Oh, Sydney, I didn't see you there. Why _are_ you here?"

"Are you okay, Ed?" I asked, stepping forward to stand on the opposite side of the examination table. Ed fiddled his fingers together and kept his brown eyes on anything other than me.

"I'm quite fine and dandy, Sydney." Ed said quickly. "I don't know why'd you think otherwise."

"Because you're clearly hiding something from me," I countered, feeling that I had beaten around the bush a little too much. "Ed, we're friends. If something is bothering you, you should let me know and maybe I can help."

Ed finally looked at me, and his expression looked guilty. But he swallowed hard and said, "You know how I tried to organize those files in your office so that they were more lateral?" I nodded. Ed nodded too. "Well, I was going through some old ones, the ones you were looking for right after, and I saw one of the files. It was about Detective Gordon's father and-and a man named Jonathon Dessen."

Now it was my turn to swallow hard. "So you know now?" I asked. Ed hesitated before nodding back. I blinked at him and started to put the puzzle pieces together. "So that's why you were at the library yesterday; you were looking up about Dessen?" Another nod. I sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you Ed. I don't want anyone to know."

"I figured that." Ed said, looking relieved that I wasn't mad at him. "I tried not to let you know that I knew, but I can't lie to you. It's hard to."

There wasn't a shred of judgement in Ed's face, just understanding and mild concern. For this, I felt a rush of affection and appreciation for my friend. But I finally looked around the room and frowned. "Hey Ed, why _are_ you in here? I thought you got in trouble last time you were here."

Ed's expression changed to one of mild irritation and he rolled his eyes. "I'm simply looking for what _he's_ refusing to open his eyes to."

"Yeah, well, if you get caught in here again you could be suspended." I reminded him. Ed rolled his eyes at me but started to remove the goggles and protective clothing. I waited patiently for him to finish straightening up after himself before we started to leave the room. Right as we got to the door, the coroner opened it and stared at the pair of us before turning red in the face.

"What the hell are you two doing in here?" He asked, looking madder the longer we were stuck there.

Ed opened his mouth to say something (most likely something offensive) but I cut across. "We're leaving, calm down for Christ's sake. No harm done to your dead bodies." I grabbed the crook of Ed's elbow and started to half pull, half guide him away before he said something he'd regret. The coroner said something about us being weird but didn't bother to stop us from leaving.

"I don't know why you were worried." Ed said once the coroner was inside of his office. "He probably wouldn't understand what I was going to say anyway." I sighed with slight annoyance at him.

Ed walked with me to the entrance to the police station, and we started to say goodbye to each other. As Ed started towards the direction of where his car was parked, I said, "Hey Ed, thanks for not freaking out about Dessen."

He blinked at me. "It's not something you could've controlled, Sydney. I won't fault you for who your family was." With that note, he turned on his heel and started for the parking lot where employees of the station were allowed to park. I smiled at his back and started in the opposite direction to the nearest train station.

A few days later, during a pretty severe case where a man named Sionis was killing off people in some kind of fight club, I was walking up to my apartment after work to find Oswald Cobblepot standing outside my door. I groaned inwardly and thought back to my meeting with Don Falcone. Oswald finally noticed me standing there and gave me a wide smile that made me distrust him even more than I already did.

"Miss Rook, what a pleasure to see you! You're just the woman I wanted to see." Oswald said. I hurried towards him and unlocked my apartment door before turning back to him.

"We need to talk." I said in a low voice. Oswald's eyes widened slightly with surprise, but he followed me inside anyway. I closed the door behind him and he took his usual spot on my couch.

"What do you wish to talk about, Miss Rook?" Oswald asked.

I gave him a glare. "Take a wild guess who I got dragged into a meeting with the other day."

Oswald narrowed his pale eyes at me, beginning to look concerned. "Anyone I would know?"

"As a matter of fact, yes you would know him because you're giving him information about everything Maroni does."

"You met Don Falcone?" Oswald asked, looking surprised.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Oh no, I met Don Maroni. _Yes_ I met Don Falcone! He wanted to give me a warning about getting involved with whatever you're planning."

"Did he now?"

Was he asking these questions on purpose? I just knew that every time he opened his mouth, I was getting more and more frustrated with him. "Why in the hell are you confiding in me, Oswald? We barely know each other and yet you've told me everything about your grand master plan."

Oswald looked me up and down, looking very amused by my mounting frustration. Finally, he stood up and limped towards me. "Believe it or not, Miss Rook, but I think you might be useful to me in the future. You work in the best possible location for me, or anyone else in the crime business. If more crime bosses knew about your job, they'd try the same thing and get you in their pocket. At least with myself, you're not in my pocket; more like standing beside me. Would you rather have _me_ showing up at your door every few days, or someone else like Maroni or Falcone?"

There wasn't really anyway to dodge that question. Out of those three options, Oswald was the least frightening, the least threatening. Oswald knew this too and he gave ma a sort of triumphant smile. I glared at him in return. I thought about how Falcone had done research on me, so I had the feeling that he already knew about my job. But I thought that he already had enough people in his pockets; no need for me to join the flock.

"If you don't want me in your pocket by the time you 'make it big', then what exactly is gonna be my role?" I asked.

"I'd say that I could find you an important job to do. Don't worry about it too much, Miss Rook, not until it comes up." Oswald said, waving a hand dismissively. "Now if you excuse me, I've been neglecting my mother. Unless you want to come along on my visit over there?"

"I see your mother enough already." I said sharply. Oswald let out a huff of amusement and left. I locked the door behind him and got the feeling that I wasn't exactly following Falcone's warning that well.


	14. 14: Little Toy Guns

I was four years old, eating a bag of Doritos when a beer bottle shattered on the wall near my head. I screamed and threw myself to the floor, beginning my Army crawl to the hallway closet. Usually Mom locked me in my room, but she wouldn't be able to tonight.

"You see what you make me do?" Dessen's voice pierced through the air. I made it to the hallway closet and pushed the door open. "You talk shit about how I don't care about you and you have no _idea_ what I go through for you bitches!"

I had forgotten how Dessen had looked. He looked nothing like me, with pale ginger hair and bright blue eyes that got duller every single time he drank. His ginger beard and hair got really shiny whenever he didn't wash it regularly, and right now it looked like he hadn't showered in days. The small wrinkles beside his eyes were deepened dramatically as he screamed at Mom.

Mom. I had forgotten the way she had always tied her long brown hair into a messy bun that looked effortlessly perfect. Her super dark brown eyes seemed to light up whenever she talked about something she loved. The chain around her neck held the key that locked my door. Whenever Dessen's rages could be predicted, she'd go ahead and lock me in there before hiding the key somewhere Dessen couldn't find it.

"Oh my God, you keep talking about how much you take care of us, then why the hell was your daughter eating chips for dinner? Why the hell did I even marry you? You're an alcoholic asshole who'd rather-" Mom's words were cut off with the loud sound of skin hitting skin. I quietly closed the door to the hallway closet, just like Mom had shown me how to do. There was a chair in here that I kept in here to keep the door firmly shut. I hid behind the long winter coats as I heard my parents hitting and screaming at each other.

The door to my closet suddenly flew open, knocking the chair hard into my knees. I let out an involuntary cry of pain as Dessen stormed into the closet like a hurricane. I hid my head underneath my arms right as his fist started to come down-

I jolted upright in bed, screaming. The sheets in my bed still felt like those winter coats I had become tangled in, and only once the sheets were gone did I actually cease in screaming out. I scrambled out of bed, panting heavily and running my hands through my hair. It felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. I didn't start to actually calm down until the opera music from next door started playing.

I hadn't had a nightmare like that in what felt like years. After Dessen died, I had practically removed him as a father figure as much as I could. These nightmares about him had stopped soon after I managed to get my last name legally changed to Rook. I slumped against my wall and stayed there, listening to the opera music from next door and feeling as if there was a gaping hole in my chest.

The opera music suddenly came to a stop. I blinked at the wall as I heard muffled voices talking to each other. Unwanted tears sprang to my eyes and I buried my face into my arms, curling my body into the smallest position it could get into. I had never told Mom that I had loved her all that much while she was alive. It was far too late now, and thinking about Oswald and his mother right next door made me feel unbelievably guilty for everything I had never told her.

There was a series of knocks on my door and I lifted my head again to look in that direction. I really wasn't in the mood to talk to Oswald right now. A louder series of knocks came and I heard Oswald's voice shouting through my front door. With a curse and still shaking legs, I got up and stalked over to the front door. I unlocked the door and yanked it open to reveal both Oswald _and_ Gertrude.

Oswald took in my appearance for a fraction of a second before saying, "Miss Rook, you've been crying."

"Aren't you observant?" I said, my voice accidentally cracking. Gertrude frowned at me, probably for snapping back at her darling son. What was she doing here anyway? Usually it was just Oswald who stopped by for unwanted visits. "I'm disrupting your evening, so feel free to go back to your night." I said, making a move to close the door, but Oswald's hand snapped out and he pushed the door back open.

"Ve heard you screaming," Gertrude said from behind her son.

Oswald nodded. "Yes; Mother thought you were in danger."

"No danger here." I said shortly. "Just a bad dream. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone again."

That was a lie. I hated being alone right now. I already knew that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, not without seeing Dessen standing in the shadows. Oswald clearly saw that I was lying through my teeth, because his nostrils flared and he frowned deeply at me.

But instead of calling me out, he smiled in that infuriating way of his. "If that is what you wish, Miss Rook. I hope you don't have any more nightmares." He turned to Gertrude. "Come on, Mother. You can finish your story about the ladies from the produce section of the grocery store." Oswald started to limp away, clearly intending on leaving me like I wanted.

Gertrude, however, stayed for a moment longer than comfortable to stare hard at me. I returned her stare, all while getting the overwhelming scent of mothballs and cranberries from her. I got the feeling that she knew I was lying to their faces, but she eventually blinked her heavily lidded eyes and left for her apartment without a word. I watched her leave and ended up locking eyes with Oswald again.

Oswald raised his eyebrows slightly, as if silently asking if I was really okay. I blinked at him and closed the door behind me as I escaped back inside.


End file.
